


Sometimes You Let Me In (And I Take It On The Chin) Pt. 1.5

by Limestone_and_Hemlock



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Lost Decade (Roswell New Mexico), M/M, Malex, Michael's Self-Destructive Tendencies, One mention of Jesse Manes, PWP, Unprotected Sex, somewhat dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29300943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limestone_and_Hemlock/pseuds/Limestone_and_Hemlock
Summary: Lost Decade. PWP. Have fun. (Interstitial scene for my ficSometimes You Let Me In (And I Take It On The Chin).)
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Sometimes You Let Me In (And I Take It On The Chin) Pt. 1.5

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celzmccelz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celzmccelz/gifts).



> Content warnings:
> 
> Dubcon: They should have a safeword, but they don't. Alex (accidentally) ejaculates in Michael without explicit consent.
> 
> Unprotected Sex
> 
> High-Risk/Self-Destructive Behavior
> 
> Slut-Shaming/Anti-Sex-Worker language as part of dirty talk
> 
> Lots of angst and self-hatred

“Fuck, you’re freezing,” Michael whispered, as Alex pushed his nose into Michael’s neck, fingers digging into Michael’s chest hard enough to bruise. The feeling sent a pleasurable jolt through Michael’s abdomen: He liked when Alex bruised him.

He held Alex close in the darkness, letting Alex inhale the scent of him even though he probably smelled like bourbon and engine grease. They kissed, hard and deep, then Michael feel back a step. 

“You want anything to drink?” He asked. “I have instant coffee and whiskey, but that’s about it.” He didn’t know why he felt compelled to do this song and dance. Alex wasn’t here for coffee at dark-thirty in the morning.

“I want you to take your pants off,” Alex said. “Slowly.” He took a step back, presumably so he could watch Michael undress; Michael wasn’t wearing anything but the jeans he’d yanked on when Alex knocked.

Michael did what Alex wanted. Slowly. He unfastened his belt buckle, unbuttoned his fly, let his pants fall to his ankles and stepped out of them. He looked Alex in the eye the entire time as he did it, even though it made him blush. He’d never been with anyone else who could make him blush, and he relished the sweet, hot rush of humiliation as he stood in front of Alex, naked and hard. Something flickered in Alex’s eyes at Michael’s abject obedience.

“Touch yourself,” Alex said, voice deeper and a more military than Michael remembered. Michael swallowed, and obeyed, tipping his head back as he did. Putting on a show.

“Does it feel good?” Alex asked.

Michael nodded, making a small, affirmative noise in his throat.

“Tell me.”

“It feels so good, Alex,” Michael said. “Do you want to watch me come?”

“Tell me when you’re about to,” Alex said.

Michael stroked himself in a leisurely, steady rhythm. Let the feeling build in the base of his stomach. “ _Alex, I’m going to come_ ,” He choked out, voice tight.

Alex waited a few more endless seconds then said, “Stop.”

Michael let out a pained whimper as he did. He bit back the urge to plead with Alex. If Alex wanted to hear Michael begging, he was going to have to work for it.

Alex brushed by Michael without touching him, which Michael wouldn’t have thought was possible in a space as narrow as the trailer. Michael turned to look at him, nerves strung tight, waiting for what came next. 

Alex, still fully dressed in his uniform and boots, sat on the bed and leaned back on his hands. He let his thighs spread as he looked Michael up and down with a slight smirk.

“Come here,” he said, “and get on your knees.” Michael scrambled to obey, knees colliding with the floor. He reached for Alex’s waistband, fingers shaking with nerves and excitement.

“Wait,” Alex said.

Michael waited. Alex looked serious, almost mournful as he looked down at Michael. He ran a thumb over Michael’s bottom lip, and pushed it into Michael’s mouth. Michael closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.

He reached down to touch himself again and gasped when Alex’s fingers closed in the curls at the nape of his neck, forcing his head back until his throat constricted. “Put your hands on my knees,” Alex said, pulling his thumb from Michael’s mouth. “Don’t touch yourself.”

“Why not?” Michael asked, stubborn.

Alex pulled his hair harder, and spoke, low and threatening, into the tender pulse point at the corner of Michael’s jaw. “Because I swear to God, Michael, if you come on my boots, I will make you get down on the floor and clean it up with your tongue. And I will make you stay down there until you swallow every drop of the mess you made. Until you can’t ever look at me again without tasting cum and shoe leather in the back of your throat.”

They were both panting by the time Alex got done speaking. Alex had always been bossy in bed, in a sweet, slightly unsure way, and Michael had always liked it as much as Alex did. But Alex had never been cruel before. He must have learned that in military school. And Michael hated himself a little for the dizzying rush of desire that Alex’s cruelty sent through his belly.

Alex pulled back and stroked Michael’s cheek with his free hand. Michael turned his head, pulling against Alex’s grip on his hair, to kiss Alex’s palm.

Alex relinquished his grip on Michael’s curls. Michael half-hoped that Alex would slap him across the face. He didn’t, of course; Alex wouldn’t do that unless Michael asked, and maybe not even then.

Instead he leaned back and asked, “Do you know what I want?”

Michael nodded frantically.

“Do it,” Alex said, leaning back. Michael was already unbuttoning Alex’s pants to take Alex deep into his mouth, and his throat. Maybe a little too quickly; he gagged around the heat of Alex’s cock, throat convulsing, mouth flooding with spit. He pushed past the discomfort, closing his eyes, making himself take all of it as Alex’s hands clenched in his sheets.

“ _Fuck_ go slower,” Alex said, petting Michael’s hair as Michael sucked him fast and frantic. “Don’t make me come yet.”

Michael slowed his pace, and slid Alex’s uniform pants and boxer briefs down to his ankles. He pulled back, head bowed, and licked his fingers before taking Alex into his mouth again.

He pressed his wet fingers behind Alex’s balls, and then slid them further back, brushing over Alex’s entrance. Alex gasped, stiffened, and then relaxed as Michael touched him. He didn’t push his fingers into Alex; as far as he knew, Alex didn’t let anyone do that. Still, he teased Alex with the idea of it, trailing the possibility across his senses until Alex was panting, gripping Michael’s hair and pushing himself down Michael’s throat.

Michael could taste how close Alex was when he grabbed two handfuls of Michael’s curls, pulling his head back and off. His hard cock fell wetly against Michael’s cheek. Michael nuzzled against it, opened-mouthed. Alex’s jaw clenched, and Michael half-hoped that he’d lose control right then and there, and spill himself all over Michael’s face. He didn’t, of course. The military discipline took over; Alex closed his eyes and got control of himself with a shudder.

For just a moment, when Alex’s eyes were closed, Michael saw the ghost of Jesse Manes in the tight, hard lines of his face; the austere, brutal beauty that was the Manes legacy. A pulse of genuine fear travelled through Michael’s abdomen as Alex opened his eyes.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Alex said. “I love it when you look like this.”

“Look like what?” Michael asked. He didn’t really need to ask. He knew what he looked like, and how many people wanted him because of it. (If he was good at nothing else, Michael had always been good at getting people to want him.)

“Like you’ve been sucking cock,” Alex said, pressing a thumb to Michael’s tender, bruised lips.

Michael surged up to kiss Alex hard, sending him sprawling diagonally across the narrow bed. “Take your clothes off and fuck me,” he whispered hotly into Alex’s mouth.

Alex took his clothes off slowly, letting Michael’s anticipation and desperation build. He didn’t fuck Michael right away. Instead, he put Michael on his back and gave him a torturously slow blowjob.

When Michael sucked cock, it was an act of submission. A silent plea, a way to let himself be used and humiliated. It was different when Alex did it; Michael had never felt more thrillingly helpless in his life then he did right then, pinned to the mattress by Alex’s rough fingers pressing into his belly and bare thigh, Alex’s mouth around his dick.

Alex moved up Michael’s body until they were face to face, resting his weight between Michael’s legs. “Please tell me you have a condom.”

“Shit.”

“Shit,” Alex echoed, and made a movement like he was about to roll off Michael onto his back.

“Wait,” Michael said, digging his fingers into Alex’s hip to keep him close. He reached above the bed. Picked up a half-empty container of lube and handed it to Alex. “Just do it anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Alex asked as he took the proffered bottle.

Michael nodded frantically as Alex sat back and prepared himself. Alex grinned sharply at the anguished noise Michael made when he pushed inside. He slowed, letting Michael get used to the feeling, then pushed deeper.

“Guerin,” he said, voice deep and gravelly, “Why was the lube so close to your bed?"

“Same reason-- _Oh_ \--it was half empty,” Michael said. “I’ve been getting fucked pretty regularly.”

Michael had an inkling of what hearing that would do to Alex, and he was right. Alex huffed out a dry laugh, face halfway between a smirk and a grimace. Then he pulled out and flipped Michael onto his stomach like he weighed nothing at all. They both cried out when Alex pushed back in, too hard and too fast, the pain lighting up Michael’s nerve endings like a brush fire in a stiff wind.

“How many?” Alex growled in his ear, breath hot against his neck.

“How many what?” Michael panted, helpless and overpowered and harder than he’d ever been in his life.

“How many men have you spread your legs for, Guerin?”

Michael smirked into his pillow. “Just this week, or…”

“ _Fucking whore_ ,” Alex hissed. Michael reveled in the pain, and the anticipation of lingering soreness as Alex fucked him hard and deep.

God’s truth, Michael didn’t remember how many men had fucked him. He didn’t think Alex actually cared about the number. The question was a pretext for Alex to punish him, and for Michael to let himself be punished.

Things unfolded along fairly predictable lines after that: moaning; a sheen of sweat between Alex’s chest and Michael’s back; Alex whispering endearments that sounded like threats; Michael coming, hard and hot into the sheets.

He propped himself up on his elbows and turned his head enough to look at Alex. “Does Eric fuck you like this, Private?” He asked, sweet and submissive.

Alex came hard, looking alarmed and surprised before his eyes closed and he collapsed against Michael’s back, teeth sinking into his shoulder. “ _Fuck_ , I’m sorry,” he whispered before the aftershocks had left his body.

“Don’t be,” Michael whispered, sated and sleepy. “I liked it.”

He felt Alex smile against his neck as he caught his breath. Then his teeth closed on Michael’s ear, hard enough to send a pulse of pain shivering through his body, and he whispered, tenderly, “You’re a little slut, you know that?”


End file.
